[OPEN] ain't no party like a D̴̡̀R̶̵̶A̷̵̡̛͜G̷͟ ̀҉̸̀͢Q͝҉͟͏U҉͘͟͜͡Ȩ͜҉͞E̷͢Ņ ̷̷̕Ṕ̷̧̛͞A̷͟R̸̛̕Ţ̀́Y̵̴

[fuckingcool]

Who| Oceana Gunn and all you party people
What| Oceana's throwing the craziest party of the year to celebrate the end of the Arena, and you're invited. Feel free to mingle, post open starters, and tag around to your heart's content!
Where| Her bachelor(ette) pad in the Capitol
When| Post-Arena, pre-Crowning
Warnings/Notes| Uhhh. Drugs, alcohol, sex, language, etc are all possibilities within!



It's high time that someone threw a really great party in this town.

Oceana's been laying low, working on costumes for the upcoming Crowning and watching her babies kick ass in the Arena, but after a while she gets an itch. An itch to invite hundreds of strangers to her penthouse apartment, dress up in her most sickening clothes, and let the booze pour. So that's exactly what she does. Invitations are sent out, crates of liquor are ordered, food is catered in, and the lights are dimmed way down low.

Her apartment is spacious, minimally decorated because it looks fucking cool and she's barely around anyway, and full of dark corners. The living room has a huge table full of finger foods along one wall, a champagne fountain, and a full bar with virtually endless liquor. The music is loud as hell, and the drag queen has even gone to the trouble of paying people to come early and dance, so that the dance floor is never empty.

The hostess herself will be mingling all evening; the glass of vodka in her hand is never empty, and always garnished with at least six olives. She may not be the classiest bitch in the capitol, but it's apparent by looking around that she knows how to throw a killer soirée.

Comments

[a_minute_younger]

Gary makes an agitated groan and tries to squirm away from Jolie's affections--more on principle rather than actual distaste, because really he quite likes the idea of someone paying this much attention to him. His hair isn't salvageable either way, so he quickly gives up the fight.

"You too, hot stuff." Gary huffs and, in imitation, takes a sip of his drink. He needs a moment afterwards to relax his scrunched face. "What's a nice girl like you doing in a crazy place like this?"

[reallynow]

By now Jolie is pretty sure Gary does a lot of things for show, so his groaning doesn't dissuade her from her mission to mess up his hair at all. He's sort of like an adorable stress ball, and she needs it after watching Jason scream at avoxes.

"This nice girl happens to be the official drag mother of the host, thank you very much." She hasn't clocked the fact that Gary hasn't clocked her as a queen, so she doesn't hesitate in admitting that. "I'm just here to drink and make sure she doesn't drink more." She has the best intentions, of course.

[a_minute_younger]

Gary's hair is sufficiently messed up. There's enough styling gel and static electricity to make it do all sorts of interesting, gravity-defying tricks, if Jolie puts her mind to it. Gary's shoulders are slumped in silent submission throughout.

"No shit," he grins. "Oceana? Yeah, you've done a good job with her!" Then his mouth is curling into a sly smirk. "I want in on the betting pool for whoever lasts longest. There's a pool, right? Who do I talk to?"

[reallynow]

Unfortunately, Jolie isn't putting her mind to it. It's mindless fluffing at this rate and it will only continue with his compliance. It is totally not weird to be stroking the hair of someone you barely know, right?

"I know, I'm a miracle worker." She doesn't so much as attempt to be humble, instead she just snorts at his proposition. "You wouldn't last long enough to see who won, but I'll spoil it for you. I would." She gives him a look that says duh.

"How've you been, anyway? Staying out of trouble?" That was a seamless segue. Not.

[a_minute_younger]

Totally not weird. Gary likes the attention, as...unusual and kind of demeaning as it is, and considering that he's slightly buzzed and dizzy from all the new company, he's starting to get into it a little bit. His head lolls back as he stares lazily over his shoulder with half-lidded eyes.

"The trouble's where the fun's at," Gary chuckles. "Otherwise I'd be in bed like a good boy instead of here, wouldn't I?" And, as if to prove how much of a not-good boy he is, Gary leans forward to take another sip of vodka. His wincing says that was a mistake.